The other day someone young said to me, “For someone your age you really rock the braids.”
I walked away thinking I was glad I rocked them, but then pretty sure I needed to buy some more wrinkle intensive cream.
One of my main characters is able to rock any hairstyle she wants because she enchants every man she meets. The problem is she never waits for the right man. She jumps the gun. She thinks because they love her (or her dark curls and perfectly symmetrical face) that she must love them. First one and then the next. A niggling thought begins to press upon her intelligent brain. “I’m better than this,” the brain thinks–but too late.
This young lady is trapped by her beauty (I wonder here how many of us like to see beautiful people fail). The trap is an old one. It’s the assurance that beauty will open doors and that the doors will have the best prizes waiting behind them. But sometimes a character flaw causes a young lady to open every door before thinking, before noting the cheapness of one and the gilded falseness of another. The solid door looks like all of the ones from home and it bores her. Why do some women find good, solid men boring? Why do we find beautiful women interesting?
Will this young lady age well? Will she cling to youth with wrinkle creams and ridiculous behavior? Or will she eventually make her way over to the well-made door, open it and find that she’s too late and well past her sell-by date? Only time will tell.